


A Novel Booking

by Whim_Wham



Category: Wander Over Yonder
Genre: Alphabet, Gen, Puns & Word Play, Singing, Tickling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 05:25:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7922182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whim_Wham/pseuds/Whim_Wham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first half of my own Wander Over Yonder tale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Novel Booking

Biblio was such a literal planet! 

Under the the warm glow of an asterisk sun, the denizens were, one and all, busily forming and reforming into texts in their metropolis' main square. Wander, banana grinning, watched the alphabet army array itself into a meta commentary of the previous ambulant anecdote, ‘The Whotape Letters’*. As he watched, a lowercase ‘x’ barged into the beginning of ‘excited’ ; the orange brown Wander, biting his lip in glee, plucked the squirming letter carefully out of the parade ground text ; placed it properly within the grateful looking letters of the overall word.

Wander couldn’t help himself : “X marks the spot!” 

Sylvia, Wander’s trusty and somewhat bellicose steed, shook her head with her typical high strung patience for her superlatively philanthropic friend. 

“Gelid spherules, Wander, are you going to personally edit every last subject on this planet?”

Wander’s grin grew a size yet larger still ; his back molars winked at Sylvia.

“Sylvia, did you just joke?”

Sylvia opened her mouth in indignation ; shut it quickly, a resigned expression shutting down her ire. 

“If it makes me any bit less violent, I’ll kick it where the pun doesn’t shi…”

She grabbed her mouth with both blue hands ; looked pained. 

Wander, arms akimbo, inspected his friend with a doctorly mien and an abruptly apparent stethoscope.

“It’s my diagnosis that this here literary planet is mak’n a wit out of you, Sylvia!” 

The so addressed, squeaked an eek in alarm ; fell back upon the safety of martial Zbornak katas and their associated monosyllabic cries. 

Wander adopted his own highly amusing combat pose yelled, “Tickle Fu!”

Sylvia, her eyes reflecting dual images of the pouncing Wander, dropped her warlike comportment for comedic, arm raised, alarm.

“No, I’ve no defence against…” She collapsed in giggling convulsions under the masterly mirthful moves of her compatriot’s busy fingers. 

Wander stopped only long enough to don the grave mien of the martial arts master in order to gravely deliver, “Against me, there is no defence, Grasshopper!” before delightedly proving his point with eight of his wriggling own.

The text in progress paused, the individual characters distracted by the scene unfolding before their collective assessment : the text began to melt, shift and gather about the interesting character driven narrative unfolding before their collective consciousness. It was Sylvia who first noticed their audience as Wander was, as usual, far too focussed upon his his merry making to be perceptive of anything short of a supernova or alien invasion. 

“Wa hah ha…Wan…ahh ha ha…der, for the love, wah ha ha ha snort! Wander!” She grabbed him by his fuzzy orangish brown noggin ; turned it towards a portion of their attendant alphabetical throng. “We’re interrupting their work!”

An assortment of small figures quickly aligned themselves into the sentence, ‘No, no don’t worry about us : you’re much more interesting than any old book report!”

Wander’s eyes widened; he bit his lower lip in ecstasy as a sound slowly built up from deep within his furry being : “Squee! Are you going to write about us?”

The assembled mass nodded the various topmost parts of their alphabet anatomies in one tinily giant gesture of confirmation. 

“What do you want us to do?”

The return sentence, arrived at with soldierly precision was, ‘Be yourselves!”

Wander enthused, "We're going to have..."

The title shot intervened with 'The Best Tome!"' curved wackily over the ink stained orb of planet Biblio.

Wander grinned at Sylvia, she rolled her eyes, chuffed a horsily indulgent snort ; the massed alphabets watched, enthralled. 

*****

Within their Orbble bubble, Bilbliophil a speck amongst a galaxy of specks far behind, Wander worked on the song to record his memories of their experiences upon that most lettered of planets. He strummed his banjo ; experimented vocally :

Ah may be but one fella’ in all the worlds  
Ah may be only one letter in all the words  
But my friends will alway help me out  
They’ll spell with me to make one shout

“How’s that sound’n, Syl?” 

“You’re not a shouter, Wander.”

Wander plucked a discordant banjo chord. “Ah know, but Ah’ve got the rhyme to worry ‘bout!”

“You’re a…” Sylvia furrowed her brow in pursuit of unaccustomed character analysis. “ ‘glee and squee type.’ “

Wander bent over the front of the saddle, smoothed Sylvia’s mane ; planted a happy kiss on the top of her head. She flicked her head and snorted in pretend—they both knew it—dislike.

“Squee! You’re absolutely right! I wasn’t happy with ‘shout’ either!” He strummed thoughtfully on his instrument ; began readjusting his lyrics :

Ah may be but one fella’ in all the worlds  
Ah may but spell out one small bit of ‘Squee!”  
But with all my friends add’n all their words  
We bring… 

He was interrupted by a tiny Orbble soap bubble careening off of the rearward curve of their own sphere. 

“What do we have here?” Wander extended the membrane to encapsulate the meteoric newcomer.

Sylvia peered into the ten pin bowling ball sized affair ; exclaimed, “It’s seven of our letter friends!”

Wander smiled down at them : “You fella’s sure have come a long way! How can I help?”

Popping out of their conveyance, a trembling party of letters formed up into an alarmingly primitive message : LrD H8tR 

Sylvia snorted angrily ; Wander ran a soothing hand through her bristling red mane. 

“Don’t fret, Syl! He grinned. “Hater’s gone and wrote stuff without us, his editors!”

Sylvia bumped her blue fists together, a violently happy expression scrunching her eyes and widening her mouth into a scythe grin. 

“He needs some serious editing!”

Wander dismounted ; gently scooped the exhausted letters into his hat. 

“Here you go, fellas. Take it easy : it’s gonna’ take a while for us to get back n’ sort things out.”

Wander remounted his steed ; executed a one-eighty, started back towards the bright speck of Biblio. 

****

*Fold Seuss into Lewis with one (1) oversized wooden Goon Spoon ; overbake, serve with plentiful ham.


End file.
